Snapshot of a Mission
by TheHighestMountain
Summary: Max and Natalya go on a mission together for the first time in a while. There's dancing and drinks. A tribute to those small, intimate moments between them that warm my cold heart. Oneshot.


**Snapshot of a Mission**

Nero sat at his desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. The expensive watch on his left wrist ticked up to 6AM. He was far too old to be pulling an all-nighter, but crime never sleeps and running a school for villainous youths comes with far too much paperwork.

"Access granted," chimed the voice of H.I.V. as the door to Nero's private rooms slid open. Raven stood in the doorway, clearly fresh from the shower in loose lightweight black clothes and two steaming mugs in her hands.

"Sir." He'd asked Raven to come here for a mission briefing. Well, he'd had H.I.V. to put the meeting in her Blackbox's diary the previous day. Thank God for machines, reducing the need to spend a few minutes actually calling someone. The coffee, however, was all Natayla's idea.

"Come in."

It was odd how the two of them functioned around each other. There was Nero and there was Max. Raven and Natalya. Nero and Raven were the professionals, the head teacher and the somewhat assistant, the boss and his employed assassin. Max and Natayla were friends, caring and intimate in their own way.

Raven crossed the doorway and smiled and she became Natayla, thoughtful and quick to laugh. The way she only ever really was around Max. She set the coffee on the desk and stole Max's glasses off his nose, lifting them carefully around the curve of his ears. The light and practiced hand of a master thief. She kissed his forehead. It wasn't a romantic gesture, nor a motherly one. It was an expression of care, a fleeting moment of closeness, letting Max know that she noticed his fatigue.

"Late night?"

"Never went to bed. Too much to do." He picked up the coffee gratefully, virtually inhaling it despite the temperature. Natalya sat in the other chair. "Which leads us to the matter at hand."

"Sir." Her back straightened and she was Raven again, the assassin ready to receive orders.

"There's a dinner tonight, in London. One of our British weaponry suppliers will be present, one Mr Yates. He's grown somewhat cocky of late, making greater demands of G.L.O.V.E and demanding more money for his work." Nero looked Raven in the eye. "Darkdoom believes that a visit from G.L.O.V.E's most notorious assassin might put him back in his place."

This sort of mission was Raven's bread and butter. Not everything was corporate espionage and highly political assassinations. Most of the time she was simply gathering intelligence, threatening the odd person, or arranging for others to step down from their positions. Whilst Raven worked for Nero, Nero frequently offered her services to G.L.O.V.E and thus to Darkdoom, and so she spent her days doing G.L.O.V.E's dirty but mundane work.

"I will be accompanying you."

That was more unusual. Typically Raven packed a bag, took a Shroud, got the job done, and flew back to H.I.V.E to await her next mission. Rarely she went with anyone else and even rarer still that Nero left the island for a job like this. His role at H.I.V.E demanded too much of his time.

"I have a meeting in Paris tomorrow morning and Darkdoom believed it would do me some good to," Nero grimaced. "Let my hair down." Raven inclined her head at this, the picture of professionalism. "We will be attending the dinner tonight to deliver a suitably threatening message to the supplier and returning to H.I.V.E after my meeting in Paris. I have a booked a hotel for tonight. We will be posing as a couple, as per usual."

That was their typical cover. No one was quite sure exactly how old Maximilian Nero was (the students hypothesised that he was vampire, a clone, and drank the blood of underperforming students), but with a dash of hair dye the pair looked a similar age.

"I'll go pack." Raven rose from her chair, already composing a mental checklist – handgun, throwing starts, garrotte wire, medical kit, suitably fancy flats that she could run in, a dress that allowed one to pack a virtual armoury underneath it.

"Take off in one hour. I expect no trouble so we shall take one of the older Shrouds."

* * *

An hour later they sat in the cockpit of the aircraft. Nero had swapped his comfortable lounging clothes for a stiff collared white shirt with the sleeves rolled up under a dark vest. He had quickly dyed most of the grey out of his hair and put silver studs in his ears. Whilst he wasn't expecting any trouble, it never paid to be careful and mix up one's appearance a little.

Besides, Nero was thinking of ditching the distinguished cultured villain persona for a more chic look. Might as well make the most of his youthful appearance. Natalya gave up an approving nod.

"Shroud Three, you are cleared for take off." The overhead doors of the hanger split open above them, revealing the grey morning sky.

"Control, we are taking off." Raven was at the metaphorical wheel. Whilst Nero could fly an aircraft, he intended to use the time to prepare for the G.L.O.V.E meeting tomorrow. Besides, what was the point of being in charge if you couldn't order other people to do the boring work for you?

The journey passed in relative silence. Classical music spilled out of the on board radio – an appreciation shared by both Max and Natalya – and Nero read through his briefings. Raven had her feet propped up on the control board as she flicked through a sci-fi novel – The Expanse. Raven had used the preparation time to clip her own already short hair into a more respectable haircut. Last week she'd been involved in an unfortunate accident with a land-to-air missile and half of it had been singed off.

Nero allowed himself a small smile. It was a luxury to put the noise and bustle of the school behind him and to go and do something a little bit unnecessary. Raven was perfectly capable of handling this sort of mission by herself, but Nero didn't get many opportunities to let a bit loose.

Raven expertly landed the aircraft in a G.L.O.V.E owned garage. They threw up a camouflage field so that anyone looking would see a sports car rather an aircraft suitable for a battlefield. The pair grabbed their bags and made their way to the hotel. The curly-haired clerk at the desk peered over her glasses at them.

"Your names, please?"

"Mr and Mrs Raven, just the one night."

It probably wasn't particularly wise to use that surname – after all, someone looking for them would spot the connection straight away – but Nero knew that it made Raven laugh, so he did it anyway. They had this routine nailed down: the doting but slightly stern husband and wife double act. The arm around the waist, the frequent hand touches, their shoulders brushing together as they walked. Max thought fondly of their missions together – the late nights, the wine and the tentative sharing of their pasts, Natalya falling asleep curled up on the sofa or the floor until they mutually decided that it would be sensible to share a bed. True, comfortable intimacy was rare for a villainous mastermind and Max valued their platonic closeness.

The clerk handed over the keys.

"That's room 304, up the stairs on your left, sir. It's a King-size bed. Please hand your keys back at the desk to checkout by 10am tomorrow."

"Thank you." Raven smiled at the woman and scooped up the keys. Nero wanted to take the lift, but Raven steered him towards the stairs. "Exercise," she looked at him pointedly, "is never a waste of time."

Nero gave her the evil eye.

They found room 304. Raven dropped her bag and examined the lock. It appeared not to have been tampered with. She turned the key in the lock and eased the door open gently, tossing a penny through the gap between the door and the frame. The only sound was the coin bouncing across the carpet. She walked in, checked the bathroom, under the bed, and behind the floor-length curtains.

"All clear."

Nero brought their bags in and put them on a chair by the bed. Raven's thoroughness and her dedication to her job – more specifically, her dedication to keeping him safe and whole – had always impressed him. She was no doubt the reason he was still a living, walking man.

"I'll take the left side." It didn't really need to be said. Nero _always _took the left side, even when it was the closest to the door. They'd argued about it in the past – an intruder was most likely to come in through the door, rather than the window, and so Raven should be nearest the door. A logical argument. Nero countered that he always slept on the left, even in his own bed, and that he needed his beauty sleep. Natalya laughed in agreement and that ended that.

"Sure." Raven pulled a dress out of her bag. "I'm going to take a shower and get changed."

Nero heard the shower start running. He stood in front of the full-length mirror and ran his hands down his vest, pressing out the creases; he was already dressed for the dinner. He combed his hair back and fiddled with the studs in his ears. He tried out a cocky grin in the mirror and was delighted by how _young _it made him look; he looked like _Max_. The man he might have been.

Max sat on the bed, lost in his thoughts. Natalya came out of the bathroom in a black dress, tight around the chest and loose below the ribcage. The hem fluttered around her knees as she walked over to her bag and withdrew a knife sheath and a gun in a holster. The knife went on her right thigh, the gun on the left. Natalya frowned in the mirror, spinning around to check that neither weapon could be seen in the event of dancing. She looked over her shoulder at Max, a faint smile played over her lips.

"How do I look, darling?"

"Beautiful, my dear."

And she was. Her short hair was jelled back and her legs were strong and toned from running and martial arts practice. Her shoulders were broad and muscular from hauling herself up the sides of buildings and the scar across her face was noticeable but she wore it like it was a badge of honour. For her, Max supposed, that was exactly what it was.

"Shall we?" He extended a hand to her.

"Always."

* * *

The dinner passed in a blur. Raven didn't indulge in alcohol whilst on the job. She accepted a flute of champagne from a waiter and dumped it out for lemonade at the first opportunity. She kept her wits about her. They spotted the weapons supplier – Mr Yates – soon after entering the soiree. People were standing up, socialising before the serving of dinner. A string quartet played in the background and flowers decorated the tables. It was beautiful.

They blended in, mingling. Nero had adopted an identity of a weapons manufacturer for the British Navy – G.L.O.V.E maintained a bank of fake identities so that any of their operatives could meld into any event imaginable, a false name on their lips with real ties in case anyone grew curious enough to look them up. Raven acted the wife, sipping at her drink and listening, adding small comments to conversations. When no one else was looking, she locked eyes with Yates and sent him her trademark vicious grin. He knew exactly who she was. More importantly, he knew what she was.

Raven drifted over to the terrified man. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

"Have a _delightful _evening, sir. Darkdoom sends his _personal_," she lingered over the word, rolling it around her mouth like there was no greater pleasure than having the personal attention of one of the most powerful men on the globe. "Regards."

She drifted away without waiting for a response.

"Done?" Nero asked. She nodded. "Fantastic, now lets go have fun."

Nero's idea of fun was a touch different to hers. Natalya's idea of fun was working out in the gym, going for long runs at dawn whilst the grass still sparkled with dew, watching martial arts movies and reading long, epic novels. For Nero, fun meant ordering top shelf whiskey and dancing like no one was watching.

He spun her around the dance floor, gentle hands holding hers, skating respectfully across her back. He knew how she felt about touch and respected her in all things, especially that. They ate a sumptuous and expensive three-course meal. They moved onto a cocktail bar of Raven's choosing. No, she was definitely Natalya now. The mission was over and they were out for pleasure now, for the joy of each other's company, for the private smiles that they saved for each other.

She ordered one drink – a luxury she allowed herself because it really did seem like there wouldn't be any violence this evening – and sipped it slowly. They talked of the school, the students, the professors, and the upcoming survival examination. Natalya got another drink. Neither was drunk but the evening was becoming fuzzy; everything took on a soft haze and she laughed more easily.

They walked back to the hotel as the bar closed just after midnight. Natalya breathed in and looked at the stars in the sky. She felt alive. They held hands as they walked – her left hand in his right. They entered the hotel and Raven carried out checks of the room. She was tipsy after all, not daft. All safe. The pair stripped off their clothes, put their pyjamas on, and brushed their teeth.

Natalya laughed softly. Max looked at her.

"You." She gestured at Max in his matching navy blue top and pants with little black skull designs. "Me." She was wearing soft light blue pants with little black ravens patterned on and a loose white shirt. "Two of the most dangerous people alive."

Max shared a lopsided smile. They climbed into bed. Natalya kissed his cheek.

"Night, Max."

"Good night, Natalya."

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'm on a one-person mission to inject a few more stories into the H.I.V.E fandom – I definitely missed the time when these books were really popular, but I just love these books and wanted to share some Raven & Nero stories.


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